Helpless
by Graywhisper
Summary: Do you remember when Snowkit was taken by the hawk? Do you remember Speckletail's desperate attempts to save her last son? Did you ever wonder how she must have felt? This is my interpretation of her thoughts and feelings in the time before Snowkit was snatched. One-shot.


**Challenge #3! I'm on a role! :D**

**Helpless**

The day was sunny and warm, heat shimmering in front of your eyes when you looked in the distance. This was of no importance to ThunderClan, where the trees shaded our pelts from all but the occasional shaft of sun. Prey was running bountifully, and each cat ate their share of fresh-kill 'till their stomachs could almost burst. Yes, it seemed all was perfect to is, living contentedly through the bliss that was greenleaf, Yes, every cat was happy. But me.

I snarled as I paced in the nursery, thoughts rumbling and rolling in my mind with fierce intensity. My little white kit, Snowkit, slept with a small smile on his face. He was so innocent! He couldn't know, he didn't know, just what his future held for him. Nothing but pointless weight dragging ThunderClan down. Even I, his mother, knew that no cat would appreciate him for the beautiful soul he truly was. I pause and lick him tenderly on the head before continuing my angry mental rant.

A weight on the Clan! No cat would teach him. They would all refuse, and Bluestar was so unstable that she wouldn't care. Maybe I should try to face the truth, and give into the tiny claw of despair tugging at the corner of my heart. Would my last kitten be an useless weight to ThunderClan? Never knowing the thrill of catching his first prey, or the adrenaline of battle?

No! I, his mother, would never let it happen. I didn't care if he was deaf, and I could not stand by and watch him be scorned by the other cats. He would be useful, he would be taught, even if I had to do it myself. I would do it, because no cat else would.

I sat next to my kit and licked him on the head again. He twitched and stirred, yawning and stretching, before opening his eyes and looking up at me. I smile and point to outside the den with my tail, and he stands up and follows me outside. I nudge him towards the fresh-kill pile, and he pads over and pulls out a mouse, settling down and starting to eat. Useless? I don't think so.

He finishes eating, and I help him bury the scraps. I get him to sit down in front of me, and I look into his eyes, settling into the hunter's crouch. He purrs but doesn't understand. I flick my tail in thought, and he pounces on it. I sigh slowly, sadly, and he continues to bat my tail with sheathed claws. I stand up, he stands up, and I walk around him, tapping his legs harshly with my paws. He doesn't respond; he just cringes away. I stop, mind rolling. Maybe I should try and teach him something else first? I sit, he copies me. I stand, keeping my tail on his shoulder so he stays.

I walk to the edge of camp and pull a long fern out of the barrier. I turn back to Snowkit and place it in front of him. I sit on the other side, and pounce on it with claws unsheathed, biting it fiercely with my teeth. I sit back and watch. Snowkit batters the fern and throws it up in the air, biting it playfully. I look up, neck fur prickling. Fireheart watches me from across camp, concerned. I ignore him and continue to watch my kit, still tussling in the dust with the fern.

For the rest of the day, I continue to try and teach Snowkit. The sun sets and cats stare at me strangely in my desperate attempts. I ignore them, guiding Snowkit back into the nursery, holding a thrush in my mouth for us to share. I won't give up, I can't give up. I have to see the day where Snowkit would be accepted as a normal apprentice, one with a mentor that cared and that would teach him everything they knew. If I had to die trying, so be it.

The next morning, I took Snowkit out and ate with him, then I positioned myself in front of him, attempting to make some progress before the rest of camp woke. No progress. He just giggles and bats at my paws and tail. I sigh again, unable to push Snowkit at all. He rolls on his back, aimlessly batting his paws in the air, and I walk back to the edge of camp, sitting down to watch him.

Soon Goldenflower and her litter come out of the nursery. Bramblekit and Tawnykit look briefly at Snowkit before turning and taking up a tussling game. I see Brackenfur emerge from the warriors den and fix his eyes on Snowkit, his intent gaze making me feel unsure to be uncomfortable or glad some cat other than me cares for Snowkit.

The sun rises until it's nearly sunhigh. Snowkit is now playing with the fern from yesterday, and Brackenfur is still watching him. I've stayed in the same position, from a lack of something better to do. The thoughts spin rapidly in my head. All day, I've been trying to think of a way- some way, that Snowkit would understand, would listen, would learn. All day, sitting in the same spot, thoughts spinning, turning, buzzing.

Suddenly, Goldenflower lets out a yowl of alarm. I slowly come to, looking over at her. She herds her two kits into the nursery. Still unsure of what the problem is, I look around. It's the sound that alerts me to the fact that a hawk is coming straight towards poor little Snowkit, talons outstretched.

"Snowkit!" I screech. Too late, I realize, darting forwards. He can't hear me. The hawk digs its talons into Snowkit's soft fur, flapping its wings heavily. Snowkit cries out, a high note full of pure fear, pain, and surprise.

A strangled sound comes out of my throat, and I leap higher than I ever have before, barely catching the hawk and clinging on tight, ripping at it with vicious claws and teeth. It had Snowkit! It had my last kitten! I growl viciously and claw more.

The hawk cries out, surprised, but doesn't let go. I spat in its face, clawing again and again and again. It shrieks, shaking itself heavily. My claw hold slips, and I plummet towards the ground, a heartbroken cry escaping from me.

I hit the ground, wailing inconsolably. I see Brackenfur and little Swiftpaw dart out of camp, chasing the hawk. But somewhere inside me, I know Snowkit isn't coming back. The image of what could happen to my poor baby, what that hawk would do to him. It was the last blow. I crumpled, wailing.

Two pelts push against mine, forcing me to my paws. I catch a flash of light ginger and a streak of white. Sandstorm and Lostface. I close my eyes and let them blindly guide me to wherever they wanted. They could throw me off a cliff, for all I cared. It wouldn't matter. Snowkit was gone, as good as dead. His shriek of terror is the last I have of him. I look behind me, to see if maybe it's all a dream, maybe I just dreamt this terrible occurrence, and Snowkit is just playing in the middle of camp still. But no.

All that is left is a single fern, seemingly alone in the middle of camp. Snowkit's fern. One that he would never play with again.

**Maybe a little rushed, and not as sad as I think I could make it be, but I'm a little stumped here. The Erins never gave us much about Snowkit or Speckletail, and I don't know exactly what she could be thinking. I gave it all I had, though, so leave me a review? ;3**

_**-Graywhisper**_


End file.
